One Last Ride
by isyhgia1993
Summary: What if Gellert Grindelwald escaped while Voldemort breached the prison of Nurmengard in 1998? Even after half a century's worth of solitude, Gellert Grindelwald still has gas left in his tank. Could he turn the tide, if there is a chance for him to take the stick, stone and cloak with him for one last ride?
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: J.K. Rowling owns everything.

Blood red.

The thestrals rustled their mane, shrieking in the sunset.

The sinking sun shone chestnut, crimson and copper, eclipsing the silhouette of runes upon runes of blood magic, deep necromancy and voodoo magic. _Not enough._

Some dreams were built by power, some were constructed by schemes, and still others were born by revolutions and historic hallmarks, out of the scrapes of time and space.

The end has come, swiftly and silently, with the stench of death lurking nearby. Not unlike the shadow inferius army that once obeyed his each and every command.

 _Death._

Intangible, invisible, indiscernible, like the cloak.

Incomprehensible, indecipherable, indivisible, like the stone.

Indestructible, invincible, like the wand.

 _The wand is invincible, not the owner._ He reminded himself.

The great game had been lost, and along with it, the dreams of unite. Not only the world, but the hallows also.

In his wand holster, he felt the call of his original wand. Sycamore and dual dragon heartstring. Perhaps the world is indeed more than simply having the Elder wand in his own hands.

He closed his eyes, waiting for the darkness to claim him. The _encompassi patroni_ will not work now, now that he had given up.

Where will he go?

Somehow, he knew. Just like the time he knew he will best ten aurors at once during the siege of Stalingrad, just like the time he knew what his last spell will be while fighting the guardian sphinxes during the Egyptian blitz.

His former friend fumated right in front of him, holding two wands in his right hand as the two greatest wizards of their time locked gazes once again.

 _Nurmengard._

One could never tell the passing of time in Nurmengard. The overlapping and clashing sovereignty magic of the three countries that the prison was nestled between creates a magical whirlpool that even the most advanced tracking charms are rendered useless.

Not unless, of course, you were Gellert Grindelwald.

 _Five decades._

The guards outside his cell did not know it, and nor did the officers that occationally pass several floors below, but legilimency was not a skill that fades with time. Not even the Nurmengard wards could contain his legilimency probes completely, not after 53 years of constant perfecting wandless magic. Of course, to reach the level of perfection required no ordinary amount of talent. He had seen throughout the years, via the guards' minds the unmistakable signs of magical exhaustion of other cellmates.

One does not trifle with the wards of Nurmengard.

Not unless, of course, you were Gellert Grindelwald.

 _Or Albus Dumbledore._

His heart sank slightly. He had read about the death mere months ago. Deep down, he always assumed that the Englishman would outlive him. Alas, that was not the case.

It was Albus Dumbledore, who insisted on not giving him the Dementor's kiss by pointing out the lack of magical contracts that linked him to the majority of his crimes ; it was Albus Dumbledore too, who used the tiny deviation of the earth's axis to employ a one-sided redirecting ward, ensuring that the ambient magic of Nurmengard would no longer heed the wishes of its creator.

 _How did he meet his end?_ Gellert found himself thinking for the umpteenth time. The article had not provided any details Gellert had cared for.

BOOM.

Gellert turned his head slowly in the direction of the noise, his scant eyebrows lifting. _Nothing like this has happened before…_

The lava-based foundation of Nurmengard wards send magical currents up the cold gray walls of Grindelwald's confinement, before extinguishing. Beyond the room, his sensory magic told him the guards were already unconscious.

 _Powerful,_ he thought, as the air thrummed with ozone.

Wondering with morbid curiosity whether the intruder has been fragmented by the layer of _Exedus_ enchantment yet, Gellert lay back on his bed again.

But he didn't have a long rest.

Mere minutes have passed when there was another streak of magical current running up the wall, this time not entirely Nurmengard's own. _The guard must be on a shift change._ He thought, which explained the lack of backup guards securing the most important prisoners. Barely had the thought formed did smoke started seeping in through the opaque hole that was meant to be the magic ventilator.

Then the fume coalesenented into a tall figure.

A face, whiter than a skull, with wide, livid scarlet eyes and a nose that was flat as a snake's with slits for nostrils stared back at him. His whole body seemed to have suffered a rather bad burn, but was healing at such a pace that Gellert could only assume one thing: _Unicorn-blood based rituals._

The old warlord let out a minute sigh before glancing up at the intruder's face again. He had wondered, for some time, when he will be meeting the upstart.

 _So this is Voldemort._

"So, you have come. I thought you would . . . one day. But your journey was pointless. I never had it."

"You lie!"

Legilimency probes of abnormal power made actual sizzling sounds against his own defense. The probes came from all directions, obscured yet enhanced by the oppressive aura of this new dark lord.

 _Definitely_ _puissant._

And still, the silent battle went on. Waves upon waves of legilimency crashed into his mindscape, but the probes were not complimenting each other as Gellert veered this way and that with caution. After a few strenuous moments, he took a bolder and riskier route, and began assessing Voldemort's style.

For all his formidable power, this upstart seemed remarkably ignorant of the finer arts of body language. Voldemort's eyes dilated ever so slightly when launching a new attack, and the second to adjust was more than enough for the warlord. But Gellert's own strength was already fading, so unless-

He launched his own probe into Voldemort's mind.

There was a brief nothingness and then all magic in the connection dispersed.

Voldemort was smiling, although it became more like an ugly sneer a moment later.

" Tell me right now you old has-been, and I shall make it quick and painless."

Gellert laughed. The magic oppressing wards will make the cruciatus feel like a prickle. Voldemort seemed to have worked out the situation only a split second later, for his body radiated magic that was guided by anger and his mouth thinned.

" Old has-been ,am I? What you seek resides on the side of the angels. You and I are most certainly not one of them."

Voldemort's anger continued to build. Gellert briefly wondered how much about the hallows this new dark lord had known. The reinforcing guards should arrive in two minutes at most, and he should be able to hold the intruder off with relative ease.

 _Dying, they say, is easier than falling asleep._

But then, Voldemort's wand came up and contorted the oppressing wards into a wave of magical backlash. Gellert was slammed against the far side of the wall.

" What do you take me for? A fool?" the red eyes were smoldering with hatred.

" Do not lie to Lord Voldemort, you broken relic. The Elder wand. Where is it?"

The old man cackled, thoroughly enjoying the stupidity of the upstart.

"An idiot like you would never find it. So for the sake of my patience, ask me no questions, and you would hear no lies."

The yew wand was now pointing directly between his eyes. Gellert saw a glimmer of green.

"Kill me, then!" the old warlord chuckled. _How obvious can you be?_ "You will not win, you cannot win! That wand will never, ever be yours."

"Avada-

" _STOP AND LOWER YOUR WAND!_ " someone shouted in German.

Gellert whipped around. Here at last were the reinforcements. Seven swiss aurors had their wand pointing at the intruder while the magical siren was set off.

 _Seven might not be enough._ The warlord thought dryly.

The aurors, who had been carrying magical guns that nullify the effects of the Nurmengard wards, were not prepared for Voldemort's wide-area lockdown ward. The even footing threw the aurors off balance as the upstart contorted the wards again and again to send backlashes at the aurors with simple flicks with his wand, while the reinforcements were forced on the defensive.

" Killing curses, you fools" spat Grindelwald, exasperated that such a simple solution had not occurred to the aurors. Haven't the young ones these days been taught that only the killing curse can overcome the most advanced limiting wards?

With two men down, the aurors hastened to obey. Blinded by green light, Grindelwald hid under his wooden bed, shaking his head all the while. A huge chunk of stone landed right on Gellert's right foot, he swore slightly while channeling magic through his limbs, healing it.

Then there was a bang like a cannon blast, and the floor trembled. A cloud of dust filled the air, creeping under the bed, obscuring Grindelwald's vision.

This could mean only one thing: _Voldemort had brought more than his wand to Nurmengard._

 _I need a wand._

Scrambling to his feet, the old warlord sought for the wand of the fallen. _Must head for the cell gate ,_ he thought. And sure enough, a wand lay beside the gate and a guard who had half his head missing.

He picked up the wand and turned to face the upstart, gathering up his long lost reflexes as he did so.

Voldemort was still striking and smiting with the magical backlash of the overpowered wards, and the five remaining aurors were being steadily pushed back.

Then came a shape that slithered along the semi-shadows of the fighting men.

A snake, more than twelve feet in length was wrapping itself around two of the aurors' torso. The strangled man let out grunts of pain as they continued to cast green lights, albeit at a slower pace.

 _So this is how Voldemort managed to draw against five aurors despite the oppressing wards._

Grindelwald moved forward and placed his wand tip on the massive snake. There was a burst of green sparks, and the snake dropped onto the ground, dead.

For a moment, time itself seemed to have frozen. Neither Voldemort, nor the aurors twitched a muscle.

Then the world exploded in a shower of color. Not from wands that were slackly held by aurors, but from the snake and the maddened dark lord's wand.

All of the occupants in the room were knocked backwards. The aurors still standing were flung unceremoniously from the cell down the steep staircase beyond.

Voldemort had escaped, along with his dead pet snake, if the hole in the other side of the room is of any indication. Cold air swirled about in the dilapidated room, rapidly erasing the smells of burnt wood and fresh blood.

Gellert Grindelwald, however, was still standing. With his eyes dark and his expression contemplative, the former Dark lord twirled the stolen wand in his fingers . Half a century's worth of incarceration, half a century's worth of solitude meant that the wild dreams he had harbored in his youth had to be tempered and rectified, so as to fit the framework of an old man's game. It would not be easy, yet the old warlord was sure that he still has some gas left in his tank.

He gave his bed for the last fifty years a final searching look before looking past the roughly 6' hole into the starry night beyond.

It was time to take charge, for one last time.


	2. Chapter 2

"I shall join you in the castle shortly," the Dark Lord said in his high, cold voice. "Leave me now."

Snape bowed and set off back up the path, his mind sluggish with frustration and wariness. Spots of crimson littered the eastern horizon, while clouds still floated ominously over Hogwarts main castle. The dark lord had been in a towering mood, and he wasn't quite sure of the reason behind it. Nor was he sure why the dark lord has chose this particular day to visit Hogwarts. Snape quickened his footsteps as he neared the entrance hall. It will not do for any students to see him going back to the headmaster's office at the moment should Voldemort read their minds. Rehearsing his Occlumency for the dozenth time, he simply stood out of the view of the courtyard, and waited.

Waiting means to be hunted, and moving means to be feared. To be respected. To be unpredictable. Gellert had always been a grandmaster of deceiving and improvising. Darkness is the cloak and speed essential. Two hundred meters. One hundred meters. Even he was severely exhausted by the constant magical drainage of the heptagonal ice runes of the outer Nurmengard gates. The ten guards that were stationed around the gate were all dead.

FOR THE GREATER GOOD

The magical glacier he had constructed sixty years ago glinted in the moonlight. Gellert traced the residual magic in the gale force winds with his fingers. The outmost wards had remained untouched. Interesting. Static magic current that he alone could trace yet could no longer command caressed his skin like soft cotton.

53 years.

More than half a century had elapsed since he stood at the top of the world. Dressed in Nundu hides embedded with much platinum thread. He distinctly remembered how the old Egyptian magic had coursed through the Elder wand.

Czech. France. Poland. Sweden. Waves upon waves of hitwizards and aurors assembled to confront him. He remembered his own laugh, rich with amusement, as though it were yesterday.

Gellert moved on, swiftly and silently. It would not do to dwell on dreams. Not with the night fading and dawn approaching.

Dawn was now breaking over the horizon, shell pink and faintly gold, as Harry washed, again following the train of thought that had come to him in the dark garden of shell cottage.

Dobby would never be able to tell them who had sent him to the cellar, but Harry knew what he had seen. A piercing blue eye had looked out of the mirror fragment, and then help had come

 _Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it._

Harry dried his hands, impervious to the beauty of the scene outside the window and to the murmuring of the others in the sitting room. He looked out over the ocean and felt closer, this dawn, than ever before, closer to the heart of it all.

Hallows. . . Horcruxes. . . Hallows. . . Horcruxes. . .

Loss and fear had snuffed out the obsession. He felt as though he had been slapped awake again. He now knew where Voldemort had been tonight, and whom he had faced in the topmost cell of Nurmengard, and why.

Moreover, he knew which question should be answered first.

 _"_ _After all this time?"_

 _"_ _Always,"_

The portrait of Albus Dumbledore peered down onto the headmaster's desk, but his mind was wandering. The current headmaster was swearing profusely, and seemed unaware of anything else in his vincinity.

" idiotic, arrogant to the extreme…"

"blasted Gryffindors, decided to say the Dark lord's name for fun?..."

"and now this, the wanker…"

Dumbledore hummed a quiet tune to himself, waiting for Snape's anger to subside. According to experience, the rant would continue for at least half an hour before appropriate language was employed by the spy. He sighed internally. Every man has his flaws, no matter how subtle or obvious they were. The love for Lily had propelled Snape to become Britain's most accomplished potions master and Occlumens in quite a long time, but the price had been of equal proportions. A doubled-edged sword, if there ever was one.

 _How many horcruxes had the boy already destroyed?_

Dumbledore remembered the effort he had put into the hunt of the horcruxes throughout the years. The boy already had the sword. Severus had seen to it. The replica he had forged had fooled everyone, and was now currently residing in the Lestrange's vault.

The rant droned on, and no small amount of information was gleamed. He had gathered, after picking his way through Snape's insults and slurs, that harry potter had just escaped Voldemort yet again , this time from Malfoy Manor.

Voldemort. He thought that there had been a slight chance that Tom might realize that the sword was not genuine. But the evidence told him otherwise.

Dumbledore felt a surge of grim satisfaction. He had long suspected Tom of hiding one of the Horcruxes in Gringotts. In six months or so, the basilisk venom that he himself had sealed into the fake sword would have degraded the silver blade and trigger the combusting runes.

The explosion would ensure that everything within three hundred yards would be dissolved by basilisk venom and Grey fire. And that was excluding the effects of the other volatile ingredients stored in the vault.

The sun was coming up properly now, and the office was bathed in bright sunlight. Severus took one glance at the clock that hung on the wall, cursed when he saw the time, and then turned to face his predecessor.

" The dark lord has paid a visit to the Hogwarts grounds, Dumbledore. He had instructed me to implement some rather advanced protections around the forest while he took care of business. Apparently, he needed to find a suitable replacement for Nagini."

Dumbledore's eyebrows rose at the implication. So despite the fact that the boy had managed to kill the snake, Tom was determined to maintain the number of Horcruxes.

" And did he find the replacement?"

" No," said Snape, his eyes darkening. " but the dark lord killed all of Hagrid's roosters after he came out of the forest. He then requested me to brew a potion. One that I have never heard of, much less brewed or learned before."

" Do you have the list of ingredients?" asked Dumbledore sharply.

Snape grimaced before pulling out a piece of parchment. Dumbledore recognized the ornate handwriting at once. " Dark ice, basilisk venom, unicorn blood, wormwood, and the blood of a virgin."

Dumbledore was rendered speechless. The portrait distinctively remembered similar ingredients printed in Secrets of the Darkest Art.

" And," said Snape, when Dumbledore said nothing at all. "Today's prophet. Thought you ought to know."

Within his robes, Snape pulled out a copy of the newspaper. His face unreadable, Snape folded the front page and set it on the desk in front of Dumbledore's portrait before exiting the circular office.

Dumbledore adjusted his glasses and looked at the front page. A jet black tower he knew only too well came into focus.

 _Was it possible that the boy wasn't the one who killed Nagini ?_


	3. Chapter 3

The weather was as crisp as peppermint in Czech. Meticulously painted homes stood like ginger bread houses when the sun shone from a specific angle. Every now and then, children would emerge from one of the doors, ignoring the traffic on the streets of the old town square and run up and down the slightly bumpy road. Spring in prague was enticing and relaxing , as though someone had soaked the entire city in love potion. Wizards in prague were a unique kind, as they tend to incorporate magic and muggle artifacts to everyday usage. Nearly every shop had a magical section, even if the muggle owner themselves were not aware of the fact. A well placed and powerful confunding charm also obscured the pure-magic shops from prying muggle eyes. Now that the sky had begun to clear to show constant sunshine, the houses and cottages along the road had begun to cast long shadows along cobbled roads. The shades enable apparators to materialize without much suspicion.

 _Suspicion._

A cloaked figure appeared out of nowhere in the shadows of a long forgotten wand shop that was situated next to what looked like a gigantic ginger bread house.

The protego horribilis charm ought to have been strong enough to repel those with less than noble intentions, even if the owner had not repowered the spell for some time. By normal rules of magic, any unwanted visitors should not be able to even see the flat, much less pinpoint its location with apparition.

The cloaked figure took one long searching glance at the street before entering the shop.

Woodshavings and dusty vials littered the long and slightly narrow hallway. The baroque style statues which flanked the entrance of the hallway was a sharp contrast against the eerie silence, thought the cloaked figure, as he made no noise when walking. The hand inside the cloak searched for the wand that had not belonged.

With a casual wave, more than a hundred wands rose from bookshelves and ivory vials, and formed a ring around the intruder. The only sounds were the ragged breathing and the soft footsteps of the stranger as he paced, inspecting the floating wands minutely.

 _Destined for greatness, youngling. Dual cores._

The words he remembered left a bittersweet taste. Like from a former life, a subconscious dream that seemed too distorted, and somewhat too good to be real. The warmth that rolled between his fingers were like the coating of molasses on the tongue, soothing and intoxicating.

Shaking his head slightly, Grindelwald's hand closed around the wand he felt most suitable as the memory of his childhood years faded. Looking again at the wand , he could not help but let out a low chuckle.

Elder. And by the configuration and the weight of it, Phoenix ash being the core.

There was a rustle of air, and the intruder was gone, vanishing the wards around the house as he did so. After the death of dear old Dumbledore and Valsivian, he doubted that there was any person alive other than Henoch that could recognize his magical signature.

 _The weather was cold up in the Alps. Ten thousand feet above sea level, few Austrian muggles question why the lake never freezes when the temperature made car engines hard to operate. Boats were abandoned along the shore when the owners made few attempts to sail them in the gale force winds and biting cold. Beautiful in the summer days, the population had increased slightly for the last fifty years. In the mean time however, the inhabitants alongside the shore were all currently sleeping in well-kept mansions, their dreams most likely unperturbed. This particular spot had been quiet and peaceful for so long, so why should it change tonight?_

 _A boat, no longer than ten feet in length and six feet in width, sailed silently across the mirror smooth surface, heading towards what looked like one of the largest houses near the shore. Five stories high and with wrought iron gates guarding the entrance, the building resembled more like a fortress than a cozy villa. Just as the boat reached within fifty yards of the front gate, there was an ominous crunching sound as the boat burst into flame, illuminating the faint outline of a transparant somebody. The flames continued to burn in fury, white hot and slightly bluish. The wreckage of the boat sank slowly out of sight, and the place where the boat had so recently occupied was filled with… ice?_

 _Sure enough, ice that had not been seen decades, or perhaps centuries even, was now spreading rapidly across the surface of the lake. Further and further the ice spread, until with a low crunch, a path toward the shore was created._

 _Grindelwald sheathed his borrowed wand, frowning slightly as he walked swiftly up the conjured path. He had thought the temperature manipulation charm would be able to stop the flames before it was even fully formed. But there was no time to dwell on the matter as a muffled shout came just within the iron gates, and five guards came running out, their wand raised._

Concusso _!_

 _Five jets of sizzling silver light shot towards completely wrong directions. Nearby rocks were blasted into dust as the advanced stunners struck._

 _Although missing the target, the combined amount of dust briefly outlined Grindelwald's disillusioned torso. Knowing he only had moments to bypass the front gate and the guards, Grindelwald flicked a blinding ball of blue flame from his wand tip before simultaneously transfiguring stone fragments into wood dust and his own body into smoke. Praying silently that his reflexes were not betraying him, Grindelwald then squeezed himself past the momentarily blinded guards._

 _Then there was a colossal explosion. The sound of the dust explosion seemed to rent the world apart: Fragments of asphalt and sandstone and ice flew to all directions, along with an impenetrable cloud of thick dust. Three of the five guards flew through the air, then crashed against the iron gates, which were already slightly ajar. Then Gellert heard a series of sickening metallic thuds, which told him that gates themselves had been blasted off their hinges._

The wards were not powered fully, _realized Grindelwald, as the owners of the villa stood by the large windows of the villa, their wands out._

This is going to be easy. _He thought lazily._

 _Grindelwald took a sip of conjured tea as he surveyed his …former minion, who was bound by invisible ropes. His wife was also bound to a chair, her breath came out shallow and constricted but unable to make coherent sounds due to a modified silencing charm. Their drawing room was spacious, just as he remembered. Comfortable sofas scattered here and there, with a dozen foot stools that had most certainly cost a fortune._

 _"_ _Your wards are in dire need of an upgrade." The warlord said after a prolonged silence._

 _Henoch said nothing, he merely gave a minute nod, his weathered eyes staring at the crackling of the flames roaring in the fireplace._

 _"_ _I have already made peace with fate a long time ago._ _Life clung to me like a disease. I always knew death would wear a familiar face... but not yours,my…_ lord _. Not until yesterday, at the very least." He then gestured towards the local paper, discarded on the ground. Gellert could see a black and white photo of himself stare straight back up at him. A merry smile gracing his lips._

 _"_ _I was in a … negotiation recently, and your name came up." Henoch continued, smirking slightly._

 _"_ _I'm flattered that people in Austria is still talking about me."_

 _"_ _It wasn't us... it was an Englishman, judging by the accent, a powerful wizard. Very powerful."_

 _"_ _So that's the source of the foreign magic." Said grindelwald quietly._

 _Then suddenly Henoch was suspended upside down in midair, though there were no ropes holding him._

 _"_ _What did he promise you in exchange for the names of the Nurmengard personnel?" Hissed the warlord as the fire in the fireplace went out._

 _Henoch laughed. And it sounded as if he couldn't stop himself to breathe. Twelve feet away, his wife let out a muffed sob._

 _"_ _You're a specter dancing in fiendfyre, Grindelwald._ _It's a young man's game, there's no shame in saying you've lost a step._ _Some_ _people_ _have pushed the boundaries of magic further, perhaps, than they have ever been pushed."_

 _"_ _Fiendfyre." scoffed Grindelwald. "Not even hellfire can bring down Nurmengard's walls._ _Youth is no guarantee of power."_

 _"_ _And yet he broke the unbreakable vow on myself that was sealed by Dumbledore himself in order to breach Nurmengard's secrecy." Henoch countered swiftly._

 _"_ _Well, you have always had a nasty habit of surviving with the help of others."_

 _Grindelwald's expression remained impassive as he stood up, and began to pace the room. The foreign magic had been at least four months old. But there was nothing dark or sinister about it._

 _Finally coming to a decision, Gellert whirled around, and muttered: "legilimens revelio"_

 _"_ _I see that youth is no guarantee of perfection."said grindelwald absentmindedly, fifteen minutes later, as he pocketed his wand. The forged memory had been of premium quality, although still not good enough in Gellert's eyes._

 _Henoch spat out a mouthful of blood. "and age is no guarantee of anything._ _Once he has the wand it will be the end of all of us. You know it and I know it."_

 _Gellert didn't answer, his mind was still busy calculating the combined effects of the runes Voldemort had used to bypass the unbreakable vow. His eyes narrowed further and further as the results gradually became evident._

 _Henoch had split his soul. And at a location Grindelwald was not familiar with._

 _'_ _Killing immortals should provide enough entertainment.' He thought dryly._ _Feigning a calm exterior to hide his disgust, Gellert turned to face Henoch and his wife. He had initially opted to use the traitor for the ritual, but now…_

 _"_ _Thank you for satisfying the curiosity of an old man, my dear Henoch. Now, onto business." Gellert pulled out his wand and drew a golden circle in mid-air. It looked as if someone had conjured Felix Felicis out of thin air._

 _"_ _I am sure, my dear Valsivian, that you are familiar with the ritual known as the Magical Enhancement sacrifice?" said Gellert, addressing the wife with a feral smile._

The reddish mound of earth that covered Dobby lay ahead, and Harry walked back to it, as the pain in his head built more and more powerfully. It was a huge effort now to close down the visions that were forcing themselves upon him, but he knew that he would have to resist only a little longer. He would yield very soon, because he needed to know that his theory was right. He must make only one more short effort, so that he could explain to Ron and Hermione.

"Gregorovitch had the Elder Wand a long time ago," he said, "I saw You-Know-Who trying to find him. When he tracked him down, he found that Gregorovitch didn't have it anymore: It was stolen from him by Grindelwald. How Grindelwald found out that Gregorovitch had it, I don't know—but if Gregorovitch was stupid enough to spread the rumor, it can't have been that difficult."

"Dumbledore had the Elder Wand?" said Ron. "But then—where is it now?"

" At Hogwarts" whispered Hermione, connecting the dots. " Harry, we need to go to Hogwarts as quickly as we can!"

But harry was not listening. He was standing in a dark forest clearing lit by a single floating ball of light ten yards away. His left hand was drawing Egyptian runes made of silver flames into his right forearm as he held the yew wand aloft, lazily blasting and killing centaurs and acromantulas . The wandless _Homenum revelio_ had already indicated that there were human present within two hundred yards. He never really understood why Severus was a fan of lackluster detentions, preferring the forbidden forest to several rounds of Cruciatus.

 _So close, then the number seven is once again secure…_

Harry's eyes flew open as he wrenched himself back to the present. He was lying on his back in the steadily rising sun, and Ron and Hermione were looking down at him. He struggled up, shivering, vaguely surprised that he was wet to his skin.

"We need to go to Hogwarts as quickly as we can, Harry!"

"No," said harry, his voice came out stronger than he expected it. It was time to exploit Voldemort's weakness once more. He cleared his throat and called "Kreacher!"


	4. Chapter 4

Ollivander gasped; and it sounded as though he could not help himself. The pale wand that the emaciated wandmaker held was shaking slightly. The old man's pale eyes lingered haltingly upon the numerous knots that ran the length of the wand. To all the occupants in the bedroom, the Deathstick looked so intimately familiar. Harry felt a sense of excitement and foreboding as he looked at the Elder wand, but not really seeing it. He had not only seen it before, he had felt its power before: This was the wand that had downed four adult wizards with a single strike in Dumbledore's office, this is the wand that had overpowered Voldemort so easily during the duel at the ministry.

 _The force of a spell, so potent that Harry, though shielded by his stone guard, felt his hair stand on end as it passed._

The piece of wood was ancient, that much was obvious. Dimly lit by the partially obstructed sunlight, faint carvings that resemble clusters of elderberries running down its length could also be seen.

Ron and Hermione stood on either side of him, but their presence did not register in his mind. His eyes were on the Elder wand in Ollivander's hand while he thought of the vision he had while being held hostage by the snatchers.

 _The bloody trail of the Elder Wand is splattered across the pages of Wizarding_

 _history. . ._

Xenophilus's voice, echoed through harry's overdriving mind like a shadow, as if from a former life.

The wandmaker was now twirling the venerated piece of wood in his fingers almost lovingly. " Many wandmakers as capable as myself have studied it before me. fifteen inches, life and death, purity and destruction. A wand that has seen way too much and remembers way too little." Ollivander sighed, and squinted at the wand as if in pain. " I am not sure that this wand is mine to duplicate, or to truly understand." The emaciated man held the wand in his claw-like hand, handle first and met Harry's gaze.

 _The Elder Wand is the Hallow that's most easily traced, because of the way in which it passes from hand to hand."_

Harry's trembling hand pulled the wand from ollivander's grasp, and as he took it, a shower of sparks flew from its tip, sparkling over the sunken faces of ron, Hermione and the wandmaker, as if the wand was readying itself to channel magic again. For a few moments, no one spoke.

"I am going to see if Kreature is alright." Harry murmured and left the room while tucking the wand into his pocket without looking. Ron and Hermione looked at each other, and followed suit.

Kreacher, it transpired, had been healing at an optimistic rate in the living room. The strength of the newly formed fidelius charm had caused the elf to bounce twenty yards from the boundary of shell cottage when Harry had tried to summon him. Dazed and confused, the elf had nevertheless retrieved the Elder wand from Dumbledore's tomb with little trouble after Harry told Kreature of the task. However, harry had forgotten to let Kreature in on the fidelius' secret in his haste. This time , the ward burnt a sizziling hole through the elf's body while throwing him away simultaneously, or so he had been told. Hermione, despite being in a weakened and tortured state, had helped bill and fleur patch the elf up before following Harry up to ollivander's room.

The only comforting truth is that Harry was now sure that unwanted elves would not be able to breach the fidelius just because their masters told them to. After the Malfoy Manor incident, Harry was skeptical of any form of protection, Fidelius or not.

Fleur was the only one in the kitchen when the trio entered. She had just set some knives to work, chipping up steaks for Griphook and Bill, who had preferred his meat bloody ever since he had been attacked by Greyback. Ron and Hermione immediately went over to help, leaving harry to stand in the semishadow.

"Harry," bill said, his voice low and controlled. "what the hell's going on? You turn up here with a dead house-elf and a half-conscious goblin, Hermione looks as though she's been tortured, and Ron's just refused to tell me anything —"

"We can't tell you what we're doing," said Harry flatly. "You're in the Order, Bill, you know Dumbledore left us a mission. We're not supposed to talk about it to anyone else. However, we do have… experienced certain unexpected turn of events. "

"speaking like Dumbledore does not help our understanding, Harry, especially in the current situation. What were you three were up to I do not question, I just want to know why you lot are in this state!"

Harry looked down at the elder wand. Then suddenly, the events of the previous night came crashing down upon him. He thought of griphook and the inexplicable suspicion. That can wait until tomorrow also.

" Not now, Bill. Maybe tomorrow."

Stars greeted harry when harry next opened his eyes. It was again nighttime. Turning his head sideways, he saw ron lying on another bed with his mouth slightly open. It took several moments for harry to realize where he was exactly.

Bill and Fleur's cottage was indeed a lonely and beautiful place.

Harry let out a long slow sigh. The last few weeks had felt like years for him.

Dumbledore and Voldemort. Hallows and horcruxes. And most important of all, truths and lies. Harry held the elder wand in his hand, but not really seeing it.

If he was honest with himself, he had thought it might come to this from the few moments of solitude he had dug dobby's grave. Winning the Elder wand's allegiance from a prepared Snape would be just as easy as trying to rob Gringotts. Though the thought of catching an unsuspecting Snape unawares… Harry swung his legs up onto his bed and leaned back against his pillows, watching the moon glinting at him through the cottage window.

He couldn't see what else they could do. They had hit dead ends everywhere.

Harry lay back down on the bed, still thinking about what to do next. From what he had gathered from Hermione, the loyalty of wands was a tricky thing at the best of times. This is partly the reason why the master of the elder wand is exceedingly hard for historians to confirm. however, judging by the tale of the three brothers, the evidence dictated the current master to be Snape , who had murdered Dumbledore. Yet it was also possible for magic to operate by proxy - could Voldemort, on whose orders Snape was undoubtedly acting, be the wand's true master?

He was becoming drowsy again when what seemed like their very last hope occurred to him, and he suddenly sat bolt upright.

"Ron," he hissed through the dark, "Ron —"

Ron woke with a yelp like a male banshee, stared wildly around, and saw Harry.

"Ron — the elder wand. Dumbledore didn't kill Grindelwald to gain mastery of it

," said Harry, "What if Malfoy was the next master? What if he's still the master of the elder wand when I took his wand?"

Ron rubbed his eyes, frowning through the moonlight. And then he understood, too.

"You don't think —just because he disarmed Dumbledore?"

" but even he is not sure how the elder wand can generate so much power." Said Ron, after confirming that Harry is indeed the new master of the elder wand. Ollivander had seemed amused when harry and ron literally burst into his room by bringing down the door, asking for confirmation last night. The old wandmaker had knocked his water-filled glass mug onto the floor, asking harry to repair the mess with _reparo_. Harry was surprised when _both_ glass and water were restored.

"dunno. Do you think I stand a chance against Voldemort? Now that, you know, I have the wand and all?"

Ron looked thoughtful, but Hermione shook her head.

"I don't think so harry. You still had to get accustomed to the wand, and that could take months, if not years."

" Huh, hadn't the dark lord Hereward been a bit of a useless thieving squib before he got the elder wand? He had to lock up his dear old dad because the git can't even cast the killing curse prior to gaining mastery of the wand!" said Ron .

Hermione paused.

"Well I suppose it gives you a boost in your power, but" Hermione said after a moment's pause " magic is more than just having a powerful wand you know. Grindelwald was already a master duelist when he was at Durmstrang. Victor told me that polishing dueling trophies Grindelwald had won was a nightmare for the students who had earned detentions because there were too many. And we know that Voldemort is more powerful or skillful than Grindelwald because Dumbledore beat Grindelwald but can't finish off Voldemort."

"all right, all right, I was just saying…" Ron trailed off.

Harry had to hide a chuckle. Ron's ears were flaming red. " I suppose we should just keep training and looking for Horcruxes then."

Hermione looked up. "oh right! The Lestrange's vault! Let's get down to preparing, Griphook did say that we can start collecting the things we need as soon as possible…"

It was like planning to break into the Ministry all over again. They settled to work in the smallest bedroom, as days passed. Harry, Ron, and Hermione only emerged for mealtimes, but even then, they were quietly discussing dragons, polyjuice, secret pathways and magical signatures.

However, harry had other problems. Every now and then, his scar will give off what seemed to be flickers of electricity as opposed to the stabbing pain before. Access to Voldemort's mind now felt like a half opened door, his vision clearer than ever but lacked the total unobstructed visual field he was used to receiving. He had also told ron and Hermione about his suspicions of Voldemort making yet another Horcrux. The three of them had decided to leave the connection open ( _by doing nothing_ Hermione had muttered under her breath.) From what harry had been able to gather, Voldemort was now spending an abnormal amount of time pouring over some obscure texts, and on one particular occasion, harry was sure Voldemort had paid another visit to Godric's Hollow.

Then there was the elder wand. Being perhaps the most mythologically shrouded item in British wizarding history, the elder wand did, as Hermione had predicted, take a considerable amount of time to get used to. Harry at first had been somewhat scared to use it. The golden trio had started dueling practices at Ollivander's encouragement, and bill himself had volunteered to offer a few pointers while Hermione had owl ordered some books on Defense and charms.

 _'Stupefy,' bill muttered, drawing his wand through the wand motion swiftly, and then followed up with two blasting hexes that Harry was pretty sure would have fractured his kneecaps had he not deflected it. Instead, the spell bounced off his hastily erected shield charm, the bright light made him blink rapidly._

 _Harry thought he saw Bill frown momentarily, but passed it off as a trick of the light. Harry flicked his wand upwards " levicorpus"_

 _"_ _Sectus, Confringo, Bombarda, confundo!"_

 _Harr's eyes widened. Bill was using standard Auror spell chains. Four spells in less than two seconds was near impossible to deflect, especially when harry had just finished his offense. Harry hastily dived to his right, as the first two spells occupied the space where his chest had been. Meanwhile, the Levicorpus and bill's last two spells collided with a bang before the three spell shot off in different directions, narrowly missing Ron and Hermione._

 _Then without warning, a jet of bluish light hit harry on his left shoulder, making him stumble and fall over_ - _the move preventing his head from getting hit with a stunner. His reasoning catching up with his senses, harry realized that Bill had sent the punching curse on a twisted route - a wide arc that curled in and hit him unawares._

 _Damn._

 _Harry raised a shield, deflected another curse, and sent a chain of his own, putting emphasis on the last spell as he shifted his weight slightly._

 _"_ _percutio, diffindo, stupefy"_

 _The elder wand flared , unleashing three jets of bright light towards his opponent. Bill however, was ready. He batted the piercing and cutting curses away, deflecting the first two curses into the ground to leave small, smoking rings on the floor. The third spell , however, made his eyes pop out of his face._

 _The stunner was not red, but orange._

 _The hastily erected shield charm did not do much. It merely turned the bolt of bright energy into veritable hails of crackling, sparkling colors that hissed and spattered off the floor and walls around Bill, as the shield charm itself burst apart in showers, toppling bill off his feet._

 _Bill picked himself up from the ground slowly, although he was wearing a tired smile._

 _"_ _well, that is …strange"_

The English Channel has seen destruction and prosperity. Life and death. Muggle and wizard alike had risen from the ashes and fallen from glory pedestals. Time and space matter in magic as well as non-magical beings. Being well versed in both muggle and magical politics, Gellert looked across the sea that separated England from the rest of the continent and thought of the years that meant to him most: 1918,1929 and to a lesser extent, 1945.

 _It was unsettling, really, that the most powerful sovereignty magic and magical foci were mostly found in England before even the days of merlin. Countless dark lords originating from continental Europe had tried to bring the British islets to its knees, but with little success. He himself had been reluctant to breach the strait himself, not because of_ _Albus Dumbledore, but of historical indications._

 _Then in 1929, everything changed. The muggles never wondered why the food supplies shortened and unknown diseases rampaged. The wizards, meanwhile, correctly deduced the cause but not the perpetrator. Only a handful of wizards had legitimate suspicions. And all of those who had correctly guessed had died not long after, save for one._

 _This is the true power of Gellert Grindelwald. Some wizards may find it hard to jinx a single family. Some warlocks may not be able to curse the entire bloodline. Mages may find it hard to bestow darkness upon magic-resistant strongholds._

 _But not Grindelwald. Great wizards look different from the rest of the field in the way they go about their work. Grindelwald was no exception. In fact, Gellert felt he had surpassed the description. The entire western hemisphere and beyond suffocates due to his power and skill. Even England was gasping for breath. The goblin banks were losing transaction records and ministries of magic were unable to access registration records. Black market dealings suddenly became rampant as the power of magical contracts does not seem to hold._

 _Meanwhile, money, lots of it, began flooding to Grindelwald's side. He had breached the swiss goblin headquarters the year before the grand plan of 1929, nullifying the goblin's protective spell chains to such a degree that it seemed the whole goblin clan was under the imperius curse._

 _It was then did Gellert realize that he had an unparalleled gift for the peculiarities of both politics and power._

 _Oh, and there were of course the certain lapses of attention, the mistakes that weren't meant to mock gellert but to make his quest more interesting, and in the long run, more compelling._

 _Everyone was afraid of Gellert. And he himself knew it. Magical power wise,_ _Gellert himself is the complete package. Fast, well-schooled, and laces creativity with deceptive power._

 _They say the greatest dark lord of all time had ascended in 1929._

Gellert smiled at the sweet memories, almost tasting it in the April night breeze. The slightly modified magical enhancement ritual had revitalized him to the point he felt that he was living backward through time, reliving the golden days that were never destined to end.

And the pleasant surprises did not stop.

The old bunkers that he'd stored most of his fortune in had all remained untouched except for one in France. _An investigation for another day,_ he thought. He'd managed to take an impressive amount of armor, jewelry and books within the largest bunker and shrunk them all into his pockets.

By pockets, he meant the extra dimensions created by himself so that he could summon the contents within anytime and anywhere.

 _If only Albus knew_ , he thought wryly, finishing his survey of the coast. Gellert then readjusted his old nundu hides, and with a rustle of cloaks, he was gone.

The natural barriers of Hogwarts were just as impressive as those constructed by wizards. A thousand years had passed since the erection of the main structure, and half a century have elapsed since the last upgrade of the perimeter wards. The intention wards ensured that no wizard other than the headmaster create another pocket of blood or soul-magic based wards within the ten-mile radius of the castle. Rather than the dark, mystic, insidious force that was the feel of numengard's power, Hogwarts' was rich, deep yet also unpredictable.

But no matter how great Hogwarts' defense is, hundreds of students were going to return in a matter of hours.

Gellert smirked.

The Easter holidays were drawing to a close.


	5. Chapter 5

Gellert was panting slightly.

The slight overloading of his magical core was due to initiating a cascading field collapse over Hogsmeade train station and the path up to the school gates. The invisible wards were now fluctuating slightly, noticeable to none but the more accomplished ward masters. Some of the goblin magic wards have been irksome to modify, yet they had the same kind of loophole as the French Gringotts'. The only way to bypass it is to know exactly what kind of loophole you are looking for. And gellert's gamble had paid off.

Smirking slightly, gellert downed another bottle of pepper up potion and calming draught.

As one might expect considering his relatively weakened state as an old man, the investigating and breaching of Hogwarts wards was stagnant at best. The freakish powers he had once possessed that can cut through magical defenses in a split second were simply replaced by the weariness of old age. Currently out of his reach, just like the elder wand.

Even the magical enhancement ritual can't simply wipe off 50 years of age and rust. Though his wandless capabilities were greater than ever, the reflexes and quick wand draw were absent. Grindelwald let out a long sigh. He knew what he had to do. If he was honest with himself, he had thought it might come to this from the moment he had retrieved the modified polyjuice from his bunker. Either way, it is time to get a drink.

" I still can't believe it" said Bill, holding a bottle of firewhisky as he and Remus sat at the dining table, relaxing slightly. It was nighttime at the cottage, and the rest of the inhabitants were all asleep as far as Remus could tell from his enhanced werewolf senses. " a brat that hasn't graduated from Hogwarts handed me my ass for three straight times in a sparring session."

" Really? I distinctly remember that Tonks got her ass handed to her the last time you sparred, or was it a mere fluke?"

Both of the young men chuckled, and once it started, it seemed that neither wanted to stop.

"Well ," Bill said after a minute or two, " I did had more than a fair share of wins against Tonks, or most of the order as a matter of fact. I think it is just that I know more of her dueling tendencies than she does mine. It does require power and training to work for gringotts as a curse breaker."

"No, although harry only beat me by a very slight edge, there is something unorthodox about him. Harry's … unorthodox power overrides and hides his dueling mistakes. You know that when using a spell chain, the first and the last spell tend to be the strongest, especially for the young ones? The same goes for harry, except that his first and last is so powerful it really shocks you."

" Hmm," Remus hesitated, " James was a decent fighter, and lily could duel the most powerful death eaters to a standstill from what I can remember. You did remember that he can cast the patronus charm at 13 right? And his tendencies, I think he duels more to survive than for recreations."

Bill didn't speak for a moment. Although he was evidently thinking hard.

"I didn't play much during the duel, either," he said. "He duels with such energy and such aggressiveness. It needs to be appreciated. We need to get him down to training. He looks all over the place when he fights, but he's got that raw power. Obviously we need to refine him, smarten him up, to become a much better fighter. He can cast, and you're right, he fights more of a street fight that friendly exchanges."

"That's pretty outrageous, what he's been able to do without all the extra training he is supposed to have. It seems to fly under the radar with what the rest of the order and ministry is doing at this stage of war. Honestly I half expected to hear the news of his death every morning I wake up. Did you know they already have the majority of the escaped ministry officials rounded up and sent to Azkaban?"

Remus looked at the bottom of his glass, nodded, but said nothing.

Gellert stopped by a sign of a battered wooden sign hung from a rusty bracket over the door, with a picture upon it of a wild boar's severed head leaking blood onto the white cloth around it. The wards powered from the castle foundations seemed to have an abnormal fluctuation around the shop, like the constant ebb and flow of a calm ocean. Wondering if the shop was one of Voldemort's base operations, Gellert casted an Imperius curse at a nearby pedestrian. Keeping his distance from the front door, Gellert saw the mind controlled man opened the pub door with little to no effort, with no visible change to the ward component. Grindelwald hesitated for a fraction of a second, then slipped through the door with a little difficulty, crossing the threshold without making any noise.

This place was next to no chance to be a base operation. The bar is comprised one small, dingy, and very dirty room that smelled strongly of something that might have been goats. The bay windows were so encrusted with grime that so little daylight could permeate the room that people's faces were left in dense shadows, while some kept their face hidden. A brief tap of passive Legilimency showed no invisible or transfigured enemies within his sight. A slight closer examination of magical signatures told him that there were several werewolves and vampires mixed in the clientele. Gellert smirked. He seemed to have stumbled upon an inn that was a haven for black market trading. Reminiscing briefly of the good old days, Gellert then approached the bar to order something to drink.

The barman was a bespectacled old man with a great deal of long gray hair and

beard. He was tall and thin and looked vaguely familiar. Something about the barman made Grindelwald slightly uneasy, even though the warlord was sure the wizard in front of him was neither magically powerful nor intellectually savvy.

"What?" the barman grunted.

"A butterbeer, please," said Grindelwald politely, subtlely sending out tendrils of Legilimency without making eye contact.

The man reached beneath the counter and pulled up a very dusty, very dirty bottle, which he slammed on the bar. Then he held out two fingers.

"Two Sickles?" Gellert asked. The barman nodded slowly.

He passed over two silvers taken from his bunker. The barman's eyes traveled over his form , resting for a fraction of a second between his eyes. Then he turned away and deposited the money in an ancient wooden till whose drawer slid open automatically to receive it.

Grindelwald then retreated to the farthest table from the bar and sat down, frowning slightly. The barman was either a well above average Occlumens or was temporarily spacing out. Sipping his butterbeer , Gellert wondered if there was more to the pub that meets the eye.

Bang.

The front door opened so violently that the ancient hinges holding it creaked and shuddered, although no one visible came in. Gellert cast five surreptitious tracking charms on the barman's clothes and glasses.

So the barman lived upstairs. Interesting.

Without further ado, the once most feared wizard in the world tore through the anti-apparation wards and disappeared.

Gellert reappeared in a sitting room with a durable carpet and a small fireplace, while the far end of the second floor lit only by the stuttering light of a single candle.

The place was even more dilapidated than the floor below. In some way, the place was even more repulsive than the dingy, lonely prison cell on the top floor of nurmengard.

However, there was someone there already.

Gellert's wand was already going through the motions of producing white hot lava when he realized that the stranger was dressed in a tattered Hogwarts uniform and was munching on a piece of toast, not even realizing a sudden intrusion. Perhaps Gellert's silent apparition had concealed himself a bit too well.

Gellert sniffed the air. The stranger was not a threat, at least not now. He lowered his wand slowly.

Gellert coughed, and the stranger looked up. He had an innocent looking face although the eyes were sunken and weary. The signs of prolonged Cruciatus exposure without sufficient treatment. The stanger's hand was already holding his wand tightly.

"Oh, uh hello? Are you a friend of Ab's?" the look on the strangers face told grindelwald that he would not believe if he said he was.

" I haven't had a friend for quite some time. No , I am here because the pub downstairs is getting quite full. I haven't visited England for a long time, and does not wish to mingle with a large crowd. " Gellert lied easily, counting on his old man's appearance and raspy voice to sell his act, while pushing a bit of compulsion magic out.

The stranger relaxed instantly.

"Hmm, well I have some more toast here, that is if you want some." The stranger said after a pregnant pause.

Gellert said nothing, but conjured a small sofa out of thin air next to the teenage stranger, whose eyes widen slightly at the display. He then settled himself on the sofa, propping his leg up on a summoned chair.

" You're not… I mean, you weren't an auror, right?"

" No. But I worked for the American aurors some time ago."

Silence. Gellert wandlessly summoned a bottle of wine from the shadows when the boy wasn't looking.

"So you are American, then?"

"I lived in the US for some time, yes. You still a Hogwarts student?"

" Er, kind of. I have already graduated though."

There was no need for legilimency. The lie was as clear as day.

" tell me about Hogwarts."

The next twenty minutes went by with the teen telling the old man his years at Hogwarts from the beginning of first year, up until recently. Gellert had had to suppress a smirk. Already graduated, indeed.

"Amycus, the bloke, he teaches what used to be Defense Against the Dark Arts, except now it's just the Dark Arts. We're supposed to practice the Cruciatus Curse on people who've earned detentions."

"Alecto, Amycus's sister, teaches Muggle Studies, which is compulsory for everyone. We've all got to listen to her explain how Muggles are like animals, stupid and dirty, and how they drive wizards into hiding by being vicious toward them, and how the natural order is being reestablished. I got this one," he indicated another slash to his face, "for asking her how much Muggle blood she and her brother have got."

For a brief moment, Gellert wondered if the compulsion charm he placed on the boy had been a bit too strong. Perhaps the kid has been kept in isolation for so long that he opens up to anyone who would listen?

" They do seem to be incompetent teachers."

" Yeah, well, they are evil nutters for sure. However, they won't be the worse, I reckon. There is still Snape. And if you-know-who decides to completely lockdown the castle for his own operational base, who knows what will happen?"

"So you decided to escape from the castle?"

" Yeah."

" You said that snape killed Dumbledore last year? How?"

"Dunno, there were only one other witness other than the death eaters."

Silence fell between them. This Snape must have been one hell of a duellist if he was able to kill Albus Dumbledore one on one. There is no doubt that the Elder Wand increased one's magical power significantly, and in the hands of an experienced duellist like Dumbledore that made him nigh unstoppable. The fact that Snape had been able to not only defeat, but kill the vanquisher of Grindelwald was troubling to say at the least. As he stared into space, the warlord wondered again on the chances of him obtaining the wand ever again. Deep down, Gellert had always fancied the notion that Dumbledore would be the last true owner of the elder wand, but alas, he was wrong.

Yet there were some inconsistencies that were very obvious. Lord Voldemort did not seem to be significantly more powerful than Dumbledore. Why would a man, who beat an elder wand wielding Dumbledore, take orders from a wizard who seemed incapable of doing so in the past 30 years? And yet Voldemort seemed content to keep Snape in a position of power… perhaps a vow or truce of some sorts? Or were the rumors merely false?

Feigning a nonchalant that he did not feel Gellert changed the topic.

"And what about this Harry Potter? News about him seemed to have been distorted across the Atlantic."

The following five minutes was then devoted to hearing the legend of the boy who lived , which Gellert did not deem it to be of pivotal importance. The former dark Lord could see the workings of Sheer luck ,and useful connections here and there. No, the key players were still dumbledore, voldemort and the enigma that is Severus Snape.

"Blimey, I am tired, are you ready to go too, Mr…?"

"Gorgevitch, you may call me Gorgevitch, and yes, it is about time for me to set off. May our paths cross again in the near future, Mr…"

"Neville Longbottom, sir,"

Grindelwald bowed his head, and with a rustle of his cloakes, he was gone.

Back in the inn, Neville was still staring at the spot where Gorgevitch had just occupied. His mind however , was suddenly clearer than it had been for days. He distinctly remember Aberforth telling him that the anti-apparition charm was in place to stop potential intruders. Maybe the old man had made a portkey? The back of Neville's head prickled. Instincts had told him that the old man was no ordinary wizard, and yet his heart has gone all out to him.

Why?

Yawning and stretching his arm, Neville decided he has had enough thinking for the night, as the food and beverages Aberforth had supplied him had not been suited for brain metabolism.

He turned to face the small fireplace, above which hung a single large oil painting of a blonde girl who gazed out at the room with a kind of a vacant sweetness.

"You know what to do, Arianna." he said.

The portrait swung open, big enough for a man to enter.

But then there was a flash of green light, and Neville crumpled to the floor, a look of dazed surprise on his face. Standing in the shadows, Grindelwald removed the disillusionment charm from himself as he moved closer to the fireplace, a hungry look on his face.

It was like falling into a vivid dream. Him and Albus Dumbledore, the prodigies of their respective schools. Pen pals, discrete lovers. And of course the deathly hallows.

The two boys blew the rest of the competition away, not only in intellectual prowess, but sheer magical power. The gap between them and the nearest competition was so large that the boys had been chasing hypothetical dreams that were untouchable by the majority of the population. World dominance, defying death, extra dimensions, and alchemy. It was not obsession, it was merely the excessive amount of brainpower that only they could generate. The sky is the limit, and only death could stop them. In the few weeks that they had been together, he and albus had compiled a Gilmore of spells that would have won awards in Transfiguration today and challenges in charms for at least ten years in a row.

But then he met Arianna.

He could tell that Albus did not like his little sister. A dislike that stretched slightly beyond normal indifference. She was a volcano of magical outlet. An obscurus. It was the first time gellert had seen something so beautiful and disgusting. The story has been told millions of times. By all of the neighbors he had contacted. His great aunt was one of them.

Arianna did not bother his or Albus' work as far as he could tell. In any case, she seemed to be the center of their argument, subconsciously. When wizard achieved world domination, the argument to hide such a well of magical power would have become moot. Albus did not particularly enjoy going down that train of thought, though his silent consent made him also turn a blind eye to gellert's more intricate observations of the obscurus' power.

Gellert knew more dark arts than Albus, that is for certain. And he knew the signs when something defied conventional wisdom. Painfully few books had been written about obscurial, and all pointed in one direction . that the obscurial can not be tamed, cured or purified. It can not exist as an entity.

However, Gellert Grindelwald was known to do the impossible.

If he could harness that power…

He knew that he or Albus could probably take down any other wizard at the time. But the idea of having a one-man army, a disposable magical force that could wipe out cities… In terms of magical potential, Gellert knew when he was outclassed.

Footsteps on the stairs broke Gellert's hold of the memories. Twirling his wand slightly, he prepared to face the barman whose identity was already revealed to him.

As Aberforth stepped onto the landing, a jet of white light slammed into him , lifting him of his feet as his extremities were simultaneously turned into stone.

"What the bloody hell is going on, and what are you doing in my living quarters?"

Aberforth growled, trying to shake off the spell binding him.

Wordlessly, Grindelwald drew the mark of the deathly hallows in midair with golden flames and projected his identity into Aberforth's mind via legilimency.

Aberforth face was contorted, as though he was trying to snarl, although the effect was somehow neutralized by the fact that he face had turned deathly pale.

"Kill me, then!" the petrified goat-lover yelled. "You will not win, you cannot win! "

Gellert winced slightly at the words, which were precisely the words he had told Voldemort back at the tower. Hastily erecting a sound proof charm, the old dark lord glared back at the only living Dumbledore.

" What do you want with me now, you power-hungry monster? You escaped prison only to finish me off? Is this what the great gellert grindelwald has been reduced to? I heard that you pee your pants while sleeping in your nurmengard hovel!"

Grindelwald's face now held not a trace of humor. His finger traced the newly acquired wand with force. Slowly, with his eyes still locked on the senile peasant that had just insulted him, Gellert quietly commented, "There was a time when I would have ripped off your tongue for speaking to me in that manner. Do be careful with your choice of words, Ab."

" Then do it, you bitch! Do you think I care? The only thing I care has died long, long, long ago! And you did it! You killed my sister!"

" Shut up," snarled Grindelwald, losing his temper for the first time in what seemed like in years. "The situation is as much your creation as it is your brother's. If you had not sown the doubt in your brother's mind and remembered to lock your sister's door like your mother had told you to , the incident would never had happened. Had it not been for you, there would not have been any self-styled dark lord and the meaningless massacres of wizarding families in Britain—

'HA! And you would be in his place?" Aberforth interrupted. "Stop flattering yourself. Even if you had your full strength you wouldn't have stood a chance against you-know-who. The Order of the Phoenix is finished. You-Know-Who's won, it's over, and my stupid brother is as dead as latin."

They glared at each other, and there was no place colder than the space between them. The fire in the fireplace crackled , as neither man made a sound for what seemed like minutes.

" I will try and stop him as a favor to the magical blood flowing through Britain."

Said Grindelwald finally, his voice as dry as dragon fire.

" Yeah, kiss my old ass."

"I will get into Hogwarts," continued Grindelwald quietly. "to what end, not even I can be certain. Those who help me would thrive, and may the hallows help those who defy me. However, I am not the Grindelwald of the past. Do you wish to assist me? I could do with an acquaintance or two."

Silence.

" and for the record, it was not I who landed the killing blow."

Aberforth remained fixed in midair, glaring at Gellert with the eyes that were so extraordinarily like his brother's. The dark lord sighed, and with a flick of his wand, the memories of the past hour were simply erased from aberforth's mind as the petrification spell was lifted. Grindelwald then levitated Neville into the air in front of him , and without glancing back, he stepped into the portrait hole.

The portrait swung shut with barely a sound.


End file.
